


Masquerade

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [5]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-07
Updated: 2003-10-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn and Ian choose appropriate costumes for Bant's party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [splix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splix/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

"Hello, Obi-Wan!"

"Huh!" A shiver went through Ian when he was addressed by that name. "Quinn, what in the world are you talking about?"

Dropping a kiss on Ian's cheek, Quinn showed him a shopping bag with the logo 'Ken's Kostumes'. "I've picked up our outfits for Bant's party. It's a Star Wars theme this year."

"You might have waited until I got home from school so I could go with you," Ian said, a bit of exasperation creeping into his voice. "I was thinking of playing Luke Skywalker."

Quinn put the bag on the couch so he could give Ian a proper hug. "Sorry, Ian. I wanted to be Qui-Gon, so I thought it was a natural fit for you to play Obi-Wan. Let's return the costumes together and choose different characters." He pressed his forehead against Ian's. "If you'd like to be Luke, perhaps I can go as Old Ben?"

"Sometimes I think you forget that there are only seven years between us. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are separated by thirty-five years, and Ben is more than three times Luke's age."

Quinn looked thoughtful. "I guess I do tend to think of you as a youngster. You certainly don't look anywhere near twenty-five. I'd be surprised if your students don't initially think you're one of them."

Ian laughed ruefully. How well Quinn had called the situation. "Last semester, while I was looking for my classroom on the first day of school, a girl came up beside me who was trying to find it as well. We walked there together and she asked me to sit with her. I declined as I put my papers on the podium. You should have seen her face!"

"Oh, I can imagine it, Ian. You look like you could easily be in one of my classes too. I can't wait to see my colleagues' faces when they actually meet you to review your application."

"So you like having a young-looking lover, do you?" Ian said into Quinn's ear, deliberately tickling the small hairs of his sideburns. He could feel Quinn's reaction in the minute shivers under his fingers. "But you know Master Jinn would never touch Obi-Wan until his Knighthood. Maybe we should trade the outfit in for a Knight Kenobi one after all."

Quinn moved Ian's lips from his ear to his mouth and kissed him possessively. "Bearded, beardless; braid, braidless -- it's all just hair or the absence thereof. As long as we go to the party together, I don't care."

They took off their clothing, intending to try on the costumes, but somehow a kiss led to a lick, a nip became a suckle, and an hour later found them on the bed tucked up against one another in the afterglow of passion.

A drowsy, sated Ian said, "When does the party start?"

Quinn raised himself on an elbow to look at the time. "At 8 pm. We have just enough time to shower, dress, and drive over."

Luckily Quinn had factored in the likely outcome of a shared shower, so they arrived at Bant's house by a quarter after eight despite their romantic interlude. Judging by the cars, the party was already in full swing.

Bant answered the door, and as could have been expected, had dressed up as her namesake from the Jedi Apprentice novels. She made a fine Mon Calamari, her piscean head peeking out above a Jedi cloak.

The eyes of the fish-head mask seemed to grow even larger, in what must have been an optical illusion. "Come in, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. It's great to see you both again." Since cream and brown was the color scheme in the Taylor family living room anyway, it looked Jedi already. The soundtrack from A New Hope played quietly in the background, lending to the atmosphere.

"That's a great outfit, Bant. Finally your nickname makes sense." Ian enjoyed teasing her in her Calamarian costume. Her laughter was even funnier distorted by the fake head.

"What about you guys? Master and Padawan -- I might have known. According to the rumors I've heard, Ian has the inside track for the Luke position. Pulling a few strings, Master Jinn?"

Befitting the diplomat he played, Quinn reached for serenity. He would not allow even their friends to think he was using his influence to help Ian. Quinn said, carefully keeping his tone light, "Ian is the frontrunner due entirely to his publishing history and resume, not through any intervention of mine."

Bant really had just been teasing them both, and knew firsthand about the talent of the young man before them. She'd attended graduate school with him at Georgeton, and well remembered the way he'd wowed the faculty with his writing skill. Smiling at Quinn, Bant said, "I know that, but I just couldn't resist teasing him back after that fishy comment."

"I'm right here, you know," sniffed Ian. "Apparently, this dressing up as someone else business is not all it's cracked up to be." He drew himself up in his Jedi robes, the very picture of dignity.

Both of his friends laughed at that, and the festive atmosphere of the party was restored. Bant's father had dressed as Darth Vader, and their eyes were drawn to his duel with Luke Skywalker by the window.

Ian was happy he'd chosen to go as Obi-Wan after all, knowing that too many Lukes spoil the Hoth. He didn't see any other Padawan Kenobis, but Bant's brother Gareth played Old Ben, and Ian didn't much care for the way he was looking at Qui-Gon, er, Quinn.

Reflecting that sometimes Bant was too discreet for her own good, Ian decided to let her tell Gareth that he and Quinn were together. He did not want to fight off Old Ben's advances on Quinn all night, pegging him for the wily manipulator he was.

To that end, he stuck by Quinn's side for much of the evening, the perfect picture of the attentive Padawan. Luckily, the older Obi-Wan's attention was diverted by the timely arrival of Chewbacca; the last time Ian had glanced over, they were sitting together rather cozily on the couch.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ian relaxed his guard and began to have fun in earnest. He lost count of how many people tried to engage Quinn and him in lightsaber battles. After all that athleticism, Ian was glad when Quinn led him into the backyard, the cool evening air refreshing him after the crush of people indoors. His costume came in handy now; the Jedi cloak provided the additional warmth he needed.

As soon as they were out of view of the partygoers, Quinn and Ian embraced. The two instinctively sought this private time together after all the noise and energy of the gathering. They looked up at the starscape, basking in their temporary escape from the others.

At last, Ian spoke hesitantly. "I feel strange in this clothing, maybe because this is the first costume party I've attended as an adult."

Quinn lifted Ian's chin, trying to peer into his eyes in the semi-darkness. "This outfit has affected me as well. These robes feel oddly right on me. Others seemed to think so too. People were talking to us at the party as if we were Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan."

"Bant was the only one there who knew us; the rest were her family and local friends. I guess it's not surprising that they related better to familiar characters." Ian leaned into Quinn's hand, and felt his thumb caress the cleft in his chin.

"Would you have liked to be my student?"

Ian stared up at Quinn assessingly. He paused a few moments before replying. "In a way. I would have met you earlier then, and Luke's Ivy League," he added playfully.

"But could you have been so close to me all those years without being tempted to take it further?"

"No, I couldn't," Ian replied softly. "I probably would have tried something ill-advised, and gotten us both reprimanded."

"My honest lad." Quinn chuckled, hugging him closer. "I don't think I'd have been able to keep my distance from you either, Ian. It's fortunate that we were spared the temptation."

Ian had thought the situation through by now. "It'd have been nice to know you when I was younger, though," he said shyly. "You could have been my tutor and friend for years. Then I'd have chosen a different college when we were ready to start a relationship."

Quinn nuzzled Ian's cheek. "That does sound ideal, lad. But I'm happy with the way things worked out, even though we had to wait a few years longer."

"So am I, Quinn. I feel lucky that we met at all." Ian scratched the back of his neck where the coarse material of his tunic chafed him.

Quinn rubbed the spot when Ian had finished scratching. "Are the clothes uncomfortable then?"

"They do have a lot in common with sackcloth and ashes. I can see Jedi ascetics wearing them." Remembering Quinn's confession that his childhood dream was to become a priest, Ian continued, "They suit you well."

Quinn brushed Ian's mouth with his own. "Thank you, lad." He continued rubbing Ian's neck, then felt the tag that had been one of the irritants. Quinn tore it off and showed it to him with a smile. "Somehow I think that the Jedi did not have to bear laundry instructions in their garments."

"No, that's definitely Dark side, especially if it turns out to be 'dry clean only'." Ian chuffed a laugh into Quinn's chest.

"I guess we'd better get back," Quinn said. He squinted at his watch in the dim porch light. "Another fifteen minutes, and we can go home without insulting Bant."

Nobody had noticed their exit or return; there were so many people squeezed into the house while carrying on a multitude of conversations that the resulting clamor became a force of its own.

Ian and Quinn continued to fend off prospective dance partners, but the costumes actually helped them to do this diplomatically. When a flirtatious Padme headed over to Ian, he looked around until he found her Anakin, introduced him in his most disarming voice, and happily watched them spin away.

People were starting to leave now, so the men looked for Bant to say goodbye. They found her flushed and beaming by the stairs.

"Did you enjoy the party, guys?"

"We had a wonderful time," Quinn said, hugging her. "We'll call you next week."

Ian embraced her in turn, and said, "Thanks for inviting us. It was lovely."

The two were tired and punchy by the time they got home. Ian was glad to put on his glasses again after a night of fuzzy vision. They left their robes on the couch, and Quinn moved to take off his tunic. Ian stopped him with an outstretched arm.

"Let me get a good look at you first. We rushed getting dressed and the party was too frenetic for me to enjoy the view." Ian spoke in the husky drawl Quinn so loved to hear. His eyes lingered lovingly on the cream tunics closed over Quinn's chest, the leggings emphasizing his muscular legs.

Quinn took in the slightly glazed eyes of his lover, and realized the party was just beginning. He grasped Ian's fake braid, and tried to use it to pull him nearer, but the braid came off in his hand. Ever resourceful, Quinn quipped, "And so your apprenticeship ends, my love." Even now he didn't call Ian Obi-Wan. Quinn gathered Ian into his arms and kissed him soundly.

The stick-on beard and moustache abraded Ian's skin, so those were the next things to go. Ian eased them off gently, as Quinn tried not to wince, and saw that Quinn's skin was as irritated as his own from the ersatz hair. He carefully avoided touching Quinn there, reflecting that verisimilitude just wasn't worth it.

"Costume parties require too much effort," Quinn said grumpily.

Ian rubbed his shoulders. "Just let me disentangle the hair extensions and you'll be more comfortable."

This process actually felt good to Quinn. Ian's fingers threaded through his hair, massaging his scalp as Ian painstakingly removed the extra hair.

Ian ran his mouth over Quinn's real hair when he was done, savoring the familiar length and texture. As exotic as dressing up had been, Ian was eager to exchange fantasy for reality, centered by the feel of Quinn's treasured warmth against him and the prospect of their happily earthbound future.


End file.
